


Padmé's journey

by Gabriel4Sam



Series: A nicer world [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Padmé needs healing too, Secret marriages are not happy ones, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 07:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/pseuds/Gabriel4Sam
Summary: When Padmé was 23 years old, she married Padawan Anakin Skywalker, just after they involuntary participated in starting the Clone Wars.When Padmé was 28 years old she divorced Knight Anakin Skywalker, only a few days after being named Vice-Chancellor, the youngest in the history of the Galactic Republic.When Padmé was 38 years old she married Master Anakin Skywalker, in the Room of the Thousand Fountains, in the Jedi Temple.Between all of this, she left the political arena, reconciled with her family, explored her sexuality and searched for new ways to make the galaxy a better place.This is her journey.





	Padmé's journey

 

When Padmé was 23 years old, she married Padawan Anakin Skywalker, just after they involuntary participated in starting the Clone Wars.

They were young and in love, they thought they knew better that the rest of the world, that the laws, the rules that wanted to separate them and Padme’s voice didn’t even stutter when she looked Obi-Wan Kenobi in the eyes and swore to him that she had taken the decision the young man couldn’t and stopped everything with Anakin. Their love was worth the cost of a lie and when the Jedi, his face whither than his tunics, exhaustion aging him more that should have been possible, thanked her, she felt a vindictive pleasure. How dare he? How dare they? No one of them understood Anakin as she did.

What she didn’t have predicted was than one lie would become two, become three, become so many more. She kept silent about the Tuskens’ village. She lied to Obi-Wan, to her family, to her colleagues, to her handmaiden, to her Queen, to the Chancellor….Sometimes, they were lies of omission, sometimes, just lies, pure lies.

 

When Padmé was 28 years old she divorced Knight Anakin Skywalker, just after being named Vice-Chancellor, the youngest in the history of the Galactic Republic.

For years, Padmé had jumped at every occasion to involve herself in every important committee, to help him, to save him. She was an amazing speaker and she did a lot of good. But she grew accustomed to power. Not corrupted by it, no, it wasn’t in her nature. But it is easy for a woman who was an important part of the liberation of her home world at fourteen to fall to hubris. She thought she knew best and then Anakin came home. He balanced the Force, killed the Chancellor, the secret Sith, and she thought they could be happy and was very surprised when they weren’t. He was trying, he really was, she could see it and she did her best too, but everything in him seemed raw, with too many edges. He disliked the books she preferred, she found his taste of holodramas plebeian, and he found most of her friends pompous…

The problems with her family didn’t help. Her parents were furious with her. Not only with the illegal marriage, Anakin was a Padawan at the time, so a minor in the eye of the law, nineteen years old or not, and that didn’t go well with them, but also with the secret, the lies.

“I don’t recognize you anymore” Her father had cried and Padmé had felt ashamed. She hadn’t see him cry since the death of his brother in a stupid speeder accident, years ago.

Anakin was on his best behaviour on every visit, when they went to Naboo and when her family came to Coruscant, but he was also a soldier back from front, with PTSD, and the produce of a childhood in poverty and slavery, and after that, from a Spartan culture. Jedi Knights thought three identical tunics were enough. Perhaps a fourth in a warmer material, if you were feeling frivolous. She could almost see him calculate in his head how many families they could feed, in the Outer Rim, with the cost of one of her dress. When he came home only for stolen moments, it probably seemed exotic to him. Now that it was every day, he was feeling disrespectful to his origins and didn’t seem to understand the part of representation in it. A Senator that would dress like a Jedi, all rough material and with no ornamentation, would have no respect from the others. In the Senate without respect you could do nothing. Nothing.

When Finis Valorum, newly re-elected after the Sith Debacle, proposed her to be his Vice-Chancellor, she was flattered and happy. Anakin asking her to renounce it was a shock.

What was this idiocy, with Jedi that could marry but no people in position of power?

And in his eyes, she saw his surprise that she knew so little about his own culture. But Jedi had always been, in a way, the enemy trying to separate them for her. Jedi were impossible standards than chaffed Anakin, and warriors that led armies she fought against in the Senate in the name of peace, and she had never asked more, and balanced that with the memory of Qui-Gon Jinn, exasperating man, martyr of Naboo, and Obi-Wan, whose conversations she loved, even if she lied to him every twelve words. After everything he had said against the Jedi and Obi-Wan! That he was more powerful, that the other were holding him back and now, he wanted to stay, just because his former Master was producing children faster than a droid factories? And now, he was asking here to refuse a golden opportunity, just because his relationship with the other Jedi was better? After all these years complaining about them, that they didn’t trust him, that they feared his power…

She accepted the position. She thought that could be the push he needed to be happy outside the Order and expected things to fall in place, like every time she had forced the hand of fate.

Instead, he filled for a divorce. She felt his heartbreak, saw him in his eyes, but he didn’t even try to plead with her.

“We want different things. I wish you success, and happiness.” He had left, only a little bag on his shoulder. He had never left a lot of things in her apartment, but he probably didn’t possess a lot more.

Padmé became Vice-Chancellor and she loved it. The thrill of pushing the necessary laws, the power to hold back the idiotic ones. Sometimes, she saw Jedi. The Jedi had no voting power, but they had a pod, when they sometimes observed debates, silent sentinels that stayed immobile for hours, but their eyes taking everything. Master Windu, most of the time, or Master Gallia. Sometimes Obi-Wan Kenobi, most of the time trailed by his spouse, Jedi Master Judd. Padmé was a small woman, most of people were taller than her, and she had never let that impress her, but there was something in the towering mass of Judd and in in the fangs and claws… Had Obi-Wan no fear?

She worked, worked, worked, and trying to force the galaxy in a better place. She didn’t exactly make friends in the Senate: some of her colleagues whose laws she had pushed back, to later sessions, and then later ones, called her the attack dog of the Chancellor. She didn’t care.

“You can’t always win in negotiations.” Bail would try to say to her.

“Sometimes, you have to give a little to be on the other Senators good side.” He would add, when Padmé had, once again, offended an entire committee.

Giddean Danu, the Kuat Senator, started courting her. He had interesting political opinions, a lot of weigh in the Senate, was in the good committees, and frequented the good people. Perhaps she should marry him, she thought one morning. He was sleeping beside her, the dawn still far away. Their sex-life was satisfying and she loved when he read her poetry from Kuat. The Queen would try to force her to resign: on Naboo, politicians were supposed to be celibate and Giddean wasn’t the Hero with No Fear, that the Queen hadn’t dare to command.

She always imagined one day she would have children, and a Senator for husband was a good idea. Even if the Queen succeed, and with Padmé on the fast track to Chancellor, it wasn’t sure, perhaps she could break that outdated idea like she had broken so many before, to be the wife of a Senator was still a position of power. Perhaps she could have the children she wished for, and the political power, too.

In the end, it was Sabé that changed her mind.

Sabé… She hadn’t seen her for years, during all her marriage to Anakin. They had a fallout after Padmé’s wedding because Sabé knew her mistress was lying about something, had refused that breach of trust. “How can I protect you like that! You disappear for hours, you disable the hall camera. How can we protect you like that” she had spat, furious, more agitated that Padmé had ever saw her, and she had left, taking Dormé with her. Padmé hadn’t like it, but Anakin was there. Anakin was there, and it was enough.

Later, the two women had sent an invitation to their weeding, but Padmé didn’t go, at the last minute, because Anakin had had a permission.

They had still come back, when they heard about the marriage, and the divorce. They had come back because they were faithful and loyal, like poor Cordé had been.

Because they were her friends.

“Senator Danu is very nice.” Sabé had continued. “Very courteous, smart, too.”

“And compassionate.” Dormé had added. “His work to establish healthcare in the under levels cost him a lot, politically, but that didn’t stop him.”

“I sense a but…” Padmé had asked, slightly exasperated. It was late in the night, they were still in the Senate, her next day intervention wasn’t ready and those two had only critics about her lover!

“Where is the passion?” Sabé had only asked.

“I had passion, once.” Padmé quipped, “And it wasn’t everything people told about. And not everyone can find what the two of you have. Passion and common goals, in the same person. I have common goals with a good man, perhaps that is enough.”

“Well, common goals and enough desire to shag on the desk should be a requirement in any relationship.” A slightly vexed Dormé had affirmed. “Or perhaps you can do like us. A little Senatorial aid once or twice a year spices things up.”

“I don’t need to know that!”

Of course, it wasn’t as easy as Padmé pretended, and when her lover left for his natal world to run for a second mandate, they decided they were better keeping it professional.

“Allies?” He had asked, with a small smile.

“Allies.” She had answered, kissing the corner of his mouth in farewell.

And she went back in her office.

“What are you doing here?” Sabé had exclaimed. “Are you working? After a break-up? Where is the alcohol? The toy-boys?”

After all, what had she to lose? Except her post, for a sex scandal? She let the two other women dress her up, and take her to a club where they, sometimes, went to find a third.

Of course, with too many cocktails, Padmé let what had always been tacit tension between them when they were younger reach its term.

That night, she was the third they took home. It was the first time Padmé touched a woman, let women touch her that way. She learnt she was not as strictly heterosexual that she liked to pretend. She learnt that she loved Sabé hand on her braid, commanding her, directing her for her lover pleasure, Dormé’s taste under her tongue.

She learned that Sabé could be forceful, that she was generous in bed as she was in friendship. She learned that Dormé liked to be called pet and was beautiful when Sabé pushed her to her limits.

She learned that she felt alone, empty, when she went home the next day. She wanted that. Not the casual threesome her friends had all the time, but love. And time. His communicator was bursting, after one night of freedom, because people knew they could contact her all the time.

Dormé and Sabé found her crying.

“Oh darling. Darling, did we do something? Was it because of that night? Darling, we’re here. You’re not alone.”

Padmé asked for a vacation.

“I was almost ready to force you to take it.” Valorum had confessed and during the month she spend on Naboo, she saw a therapist three times a week, had lunch every day with her parents and slept in Dormé and Sabé every night, letting them brook her, safe in their arms.

She resigned the day of her return and went in search of her happiness. She sold her apartment, most of her jewels, spend three years traveling the galaxy, searching for herself. Every time she went back to Coruscant and Naboo, she meet Dormé and Sabé, working for her successor, and still inviting people in their bed left and right and still happy. Between enthusiastic sex sessions, she told them everything she had saw. The good, the bad, the marvellous and the horrors.

“You should put all that on the holonet. Most people never left their world. We could use more honest reports of other parts of the galaxy.” Said Dormé one day, before pushing her face between Padmé’s tights again, making her curse. She had had a few lovers in her travels, but nobody had a tongue like Dormé, in the entire galaxy.

Padmé was studying journalism when she meet Anakin again. In fact, she meet Obi-Wan first. There had been a seminar about sentient rights. Two clones and a Jedi had been invited to speak: the clones about the long fight that had been necessary to go from property to citizens, Obi-Wan about the choices that a children raised in the Order had, if they choose to left. Since he had stayed, he was probably not the best speaker about that, but everybody on Coruscant knew Mace Windu would resign, soon, and that he was the most probable choice as a successor and everybody wanted to meet him.

“Miss Naberrie.” He had bowed. “I must confess, I’m surprised to see you there. I must be honest: Anakin is supposed to join me here, during the reception, because we’re going to dinner together.”

She had chosen to stay.

Anakin now had a beard and his presence was as imposing as ever. But his eyes…His eyes were peaceful, and he blushed when he saw here. He was still a Jedi, happy in his life. He had a daughter and was still seeing a mind healer, because he found that intelligent with the sort of pressure the Jedi supported on mission. He was a different man. And she was a different woman and something clicked. They were cautious, so much, but at the end, one day, she recognized that they had passion, that they always had had it, but that now their goals could harmonize each other. She recognize that she loved him, again. And she was the one that asked for his hand.

When Padmé was 38 years old she married Master Anakin Skywalker, in the Room of the Thousand Fountains, in the Jedi Temple.

Sabé and Dormé were there, and her entire family, all the friends she had made in the University, and Finis Valorum. Giddean Danu had sent beautiful pottery, that she supposed were dishes, but nobody could ever tell with Kuat pottery.

She married Anakin and she knew they would be happy.

  



End file.
